Look Into It

When you read that line or
view that image that
stirs the elation that
accompanies whatever
has its origin in
The Mystery,
know that you
are near
an Entrance.

You are welcome there, but
the Guardian, the Muse that
is there to welcome you,
will have a few questions
before you may enter:

“Have you had your
Divine Detachment,
wherein you know
you are not
your unpaid bills,
nor are you
your prior convictions for
habitual sloth and
pettiness in the first degree,
nor are you any of the other
crimes and misdemeanors on
that rap sheet you carry
in your back pocket?”

Hand it over to
the Guardian, who will
give you a fresh and
untouched sheet for
the Mystery Travelogue
you will write or
paint or
photograph to
show the rest of us.

I’ve heard that
it’s possible to live and
do all of your work from
within The Mystery.

Would you be willing to
look into it?

 

Round Trip Ticket

I have no reason to hide it:
I believe I’m here
on a round trip ticket
from Paradise.

I’ve been visiting
this place awhile, but
I’m sure not ready
to go back.

Before I left Home
I promised ‘em
at least an evening’s worth
of entertainment
when I return:
videos and photos,
brochures and souvenirs, and
some really good stories.

Sometimes I forget
what I’m doing here.
I get distracted by
the silliest things,
like yesterday when the
clothes dryer wouldn’t work and
I totally lost my joie de vivre.

I also forget that
I came here with
a travel group
and we promised
to help each other
have a really good time and
to remind each other,
when we need it,
that we’re here
on a round trip ticket
from Paradise.

(Photo by Nick Fewings, UnSplash.com)

 

YouVille

Imagine your life
is a small town,
let’s call it YouVille.

You awaken one morning,
where you’ve been living,
on the outskirts,
in a bit of a ramshackle,
to be honest about it.

It dawns on you,
along with the sun,
that you’re the Mayor,
but you haven’t
gone to City Hall
in years.

You’re probably
the one-person
City Council, too.
Who’s been doing that
in your absence?

What happened?
You love this town,
you grew up here.
It’s beautiful!
Look at those views!
How long have you
been sleeping?
Who cares?!
You’re awake now.

Have some breakfast,
then go do what
you came here to do.

(photo by Monica Bourgeau, UnSplash.com)

 

The Big Game

Imagine that you’re
Sue Bird or
Michael Jordan
and the Creator is
the Coach
who is beyond thrilled
to have recruited you
for The Big Game
that is your Life.

But you looked
in the mirror
and for some reason
all you saw
reflected back to you

was some shadow
of a wisp of
somebody you
can’t quite make out.

Get up off the end
of the bench
where you put yourself,

go out, right now,
and get yourself
a new mirror.

 

Out of Line

How much time
do you spend
competing in those
Pageants
you insist on staging,

where you line yourself up
with family, friends, neighbors
and fret that
you’ll never even be
a Finalist,
let alone a Runner-Up?
Winning is
out of the question.

In your mind
you lose
in every category.

Next time consider
calling that whole thing off.

Instead,
write a book of
love poems,
including a couple
to yourself.
Invite your
family, friends, neighbors
to do the same.

Then let’s have
a book exchange.

 

Emergency Vehicle

There’s an Emergency
Entrance to The Mystery.
Think of it as the
ER for your Soul.

It’s built just for you,
staffed by
your Guardian Angels.

When your heart is
being attacked, or
you just swallowed
a bitter pill
by accident, or
you got crazy and
sliced open your Soul.

Call out and
keep your eyes open
for the Emergency Vehicle.
Sit still till it
shows up, so you
don’t miss it.

Rest assured
it will show up.
The Creator has
way too much invested in
your divine Self.

 

The Church of BuVu

My friends and I
invented
The Church of BuVu.
We pretend it’s
a holy meld of
Buddhism and Vudoo.
Our paperwork is in
perfect order,
so we’re official.

We’re all priests.
BuFoons
we call ourselves.

Our sacraments
are listed
on the menu at
the Bayview Restaurant.
Mine are hashbrowns
and toast.

We meet on
the Sabbath
to repent of our sins,
the deadliest of which is
taking ourselves
seriously,
followed by confession
of our failures to
imagine
more practical Love.

The only requirement
to become a BuFoon
is to believe
in your own
divinity,
but that requirement
will be waived
if you insist.

(Photo by Ellen Heinemann
from the Bless the Beasts and Children
Humane Society of Jefferson County and
The Church of BuVu of Port Townsend
0.5k Fun Run, September, 2019)